BILLION - YES, THAT'S A "B"

 2,650,838,400 ON MARCH 6, 2021  (But hey, whose counting?)

Heart beats inside Paul Dion's body, not counting what happened in the warmth of the womb. I used 60 as the average beats per minute.  

I think that it is time to blow the whistle and call a miracle.  The kind of miracle that surrounds us every moment of every day.  These miracles are omnipresent and matchless in their steadfastness.  

Every now and then we think of them when we sense that they have developed a change in rythm.  It is at that moment that we begin to pay attention.  It is at that moment that we turn to the universe and realize that we are not alone among the miracles.  It is at that moment when our imagination runs beyond the confines of daily routine.  It is then that we turn to the wonder of creation.  Let's visit a time or two when I and the Voice from the Kitchen looked at one another and asked, "Is that possible?"

The time when we "rescued" a disheveled and shivering cat in a corner of our patio.  Neither one of us is a dedicated lover of animals, but we do respect them.  This cat was visibly in need of help.  As we stood there wondering what to do, we saw the neighbor and he saw the cat.  "Hey, Sunny, whatcha doin' here?"  One problem solved.  The question arose, "How old is Sunny?"  20.  Yes, 20.  That's a miracle.  At an average pulse rate of 150 @ minute, Sunny is way older than I am.                                                                                                    x x x x x x x x x x x 

I was driving for an enterprise that had a small fleet of vans to transport people to the dialysis treatment center.  One of my regular passengers was a rather aged Cherokee.  That's important because she was proud of it and she was spiritually immersed in her religious and cultural roots.  Friday, 5:00 AM, I accept her in her wheelchair upon the hand-off of her son.  She greets me as usual and then adds, "This is the last time."  I respond, "God be praised."

I drove her to the dialysis parlor, dropped her off and attended to her after the treatment.  Just as we were leaving the treatment location, she repeated her farewell, "This is the last time."  I again responded, "God be praised."  I dropped her off in the care of her son and left.  One hour later her son called to tell me that she had died.  It is worth noting that her legal name was "Morning Sun."

Now, I am not the only one with these experiences of this nature.  I hope that this short relation will awaken you to an appreciation of similar miracles that have come home to you.  While you're at it remind yourself not to cry at my funeral.